The Electrician
by readithoney
Summary: Jim learns an important lesson about leaving certain things to the professionals. Based on a true story of humorous mishap.


**The Electrician **

Jim scratched at his scalp and looked at the frayed wires, bent and broken, sticking out of the cord of his favorite electronic device. He'd been a little rough on the thing, that was for sure, but this was nothing he couldn't fix. _Probably. _

The _back massager_ had been in his employ for about a year now and it was Jim's most used toy. He'd grown accustomed to the intense vibrations and he'd geared up for some one-on-one time with his appropriately named _Magic Wand _and the "attachments" he'd bought for it when he'd discovered the cord had been all but destroyed.

His first instinct was to blame Bones. He always insisted they put it away, wrapping the cord tight when they weren't using it. But, truth be told, he knew it was just a cord on the end of a device that got twisted in all directions, lost in the sheets and slept on, kicked off the bed, and all kinds of other abuses.

Jim was concentrating so hard at the task at hand that a little sliver of pink tongue stuck out between his lips as he used the tweezers to grab and twist at the blackened wires sticking helter-skelter out of the worn and peeled rubber of the cord. With the precision of a surgeon, he twirled and connected the fragmented ends until they were tucked into each other nice and tight.

Satisfied with his handiwork, Jim pulled out a roll of black electrical tape and began to wrap it tight and thick around the cord, trapping the recently tucked ends beneath the thick, sticky black adhesive strip.

"There!" He said aloud to no one. Bones was at the hospital. There was no way he'd be down with Jim playing electrician. With only a small amount of trepidation, Jim plugged the oversized vibrator into the wall in their large, country kitchen. He set it on the floor, cautiously, and turned the switch on with his big toe. Better safe than sorry.

_Eureka! _The vibrator thumped hard and fast against the linoleum floor, making a terrible racket.

Jim collected the device with a grin, flipping it off, and snapping the cord out of the wall. He gripped it tight and climbed the stairs with a grin. He was a better electrician than he had hoped to be and he was damn proud of himself for fixing the broken Hitachi.

In the bedroom, Jim dove onto the bed. He cherished his alone time on occasion and the extra pride he was feeling in himself was really putting him in the mood for an epic session. He heeled his shoes off the edge of the bed and opened his pants, working them down his hips and thighs and kicking them to the floor. He peeled his shirt off and whipped it across the room where it took a short ride on the ceiling fan before falling to the floor.

Naked, he leaned back against the comforter and moved his arms and legs slowly, like making a snow angel. The silky fabric of the bedspread felt good under his skin. He flipped over and dragged himself to the end of the bed and plugged the cord into the power strip by the nightstand. He turned on the Hitachi Magic Wand and watched it hum to life, the big bulky head of the device pulsated deliciously against his right nipple then his left, turning them into little stones on his chest.

Digging through the nightstand to find a silicone attachment that fit over the end of the Wand, he turned off the vibrator and slipped the head on snugly. Jim twisted at the waist and inserted the skinny, phallic attachment end up into his tight opening, gasping in surprise as it found his prostate immediately.

His flagging cock stood at full attention now and Jim grabbed a few pumps from the lotion on the stand and reached down, his tongue running over his lips, and set the vibrator on low. It thundered to life, even on the lower setting, and sent pleasure shooting up his spine.

Not one to waste a good feeling, Jim placed his lotioned hand on his eager dick and began to stroke up from the base. He spent time on his testicles, his free hand gripping the sheets. After a minute of holding on to the feeling, Jim sat up enough to kick the vibrator into high, sending deep, impressive vibrations through his base and up to the stem of his penis.

He pinched the tip of his member, moaning audibly, his voice carrying through the empty rooms of the Georgian homestead. He was so close, he could feel his ass clenching around the toy and his body began to seize with pleasure. He was holding off as much as he could, trying to prolong the glorious feeling when a tremendously loud snapping noise threatened to penetrate his eardrums.

The vibration stopped abruptly against his core as he began to come up all over his hand and stomach. Powerless to stop the current of pleasure crashing over him as he spent himself-careful not to spill on the bedclothes-Jim bit his lip and moaned in ecstasy. With nothing short of shock, he realized that there was a small fire, literally a fire, crackling between his spread out thighs when the flames began to lick at the milky, tender skin of his legs.

With more hustle and less grace than he'd thought humanly possible, Jim yanked the flaming toy out of himself and rolled off the bed in a panic, unable to properly escape the flames without getting burnt. The motion seemed to only fan the fire that ran across the fancy duvet and sent rapidly increasing rivulets of black smoke to the ceiling. As Jim pressed his hands into the burns on his thighs, he realized that Leonard would be incredibly displeased to come home and find a pile of rubble where his family's amazing, ancient, heirloom farmhouse once stood.

Thus, he sprung into action, kicking the plug to the shorted out device out of the wall so the fire wouldn't spread up the cord. Then he grabbed another blanket off the chair and began to pat at the flames feverishly. The heat was intense and the foam mattress released a noxious smell that filled his lungs and made him cough as it smoked through the first flame retardant layer.

After several sweaty, hurried minutes of battle, Jim managed to beat the flames out to the noisy chorus of the hallway smoke alarm. Weary and still choking on the air, he took a broom out and smashed at the squawking device until it rained plastic pieces down onto his naked body and into his disheveled, slightly singed blond hair. At least the shrill beeping had stopped.

James T. Kirk had never been so exhausted after jerking off in his whole life.

The whole house smelled of smoke and Jim opened a window and then went to the bathroom to clean himself up. He came out and surveyed the bed. It was charred black, all the way to the mattress. The Magic Wand, the culprit in all of this, was burnt so badly that the cord fell off the end entirely when he kicked it. A crispy, melted piece of electrical tape stuck to his toe and Jim shucked it off after several furious kicks at the air.

He swallowed hard as he looked at the still smoking, simmering mattress. He was going to have to explain himself. Unless...he could flip the mattress...no. it would never work. It smelled like burning plastic so strongly that his nose itched and his stomach ached.

The red sores on both sides of his inner thighs were raw and the searing pain was getting to him. He picked up his underwear off the floor and slid it up past the welts carefully. He pulled on his oversized t-shirt which read, "Thespians do it on Stage" from his last community theater gig, and considered what his next step should be.

He didn't have to think too long, as he heard the slam of the front door and Len's deep, southern voice shouting for him, "Jim?" he called from the foyer, "Jim, there's smoke pourin' out the windows!" He heard the thud of his medical bag hitting the wood floor and his hurried feet on the stairs.

"I'm here," he called with a dry throat, his voice a whisper from chemical inhalation.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," Bones exclaimed as the smell hit his nostrils. He covered his nose with the front of his shirt. He stopped to look at the pieces of the broken smoke detector in the hallway, looking up at the ceiling and to the floor with an ever-arching eyebrow. "Dammit, Jim, where are ya?"

Jim walked like he'd just gotten off a horse after a three day ride. He didn't want the melted skin on his thighs to touch so he spread his legs and moseyed to meet Len. The older man was faster, and he stepped into the bedroom door with his plush mouth hanging open in shock.

There was a sight he'd never forget for as long as he was breathing. The bed was a blackened mass of blankets, sheets, and ashes. Smoke burns ran along the ceiling and still billowed in the clouded air. His Jim stood there, legs apart, in his skivvies, looking flushed and flustered, his thighs sporting nasty burns.

He wanted to ask what happened, but this was not the place to do it. "Downstairs, if you can," he ordered, sounding harsher than he'd hoped, but this was not air he deemed safe for breathing or lingering over niceties.

Jim nodded and walked as fast as he could and hissed his way down the stairs, pain running up his legs with every footfall. Bones helped him down and opened more windows downstairs, letting the breeze shotgun through the house and bring in some fresh air.

Jim settled on the couch, lying on his back with his knees bent, thighs apart. Looking flushed and shaking with wheezing coughs.

Len looked down at him and ran a hand through his sweaty blond hair. He dropped a kiss on his forehead and went to grab his first aid kit and some bandages. Sitting at Jim's feet and pulling one leg onto his lap to inspect the awkward sore, Bones held a disinfectant light over the wound and snapped his eyes to the younger man's guilty looking face, "Do I even wanna know, Jim?"

A barrier of unspent tears made Jim's blue eyes look electric and he shook his head back and forth, "No," he managed, "Any chance we can just never talk about it?"

Len pressed his lips together and arched his eyebrow again. "I want start to finish details, young man," he drawled, almost daring Jim to leave something out.

Jim took a deep breath as Len began to rub soothing cream into the patch of pain on his tender thigh. Then he started the sordid tale, beginning with, "So three days ago, the cord on my Hitachi Magic Wand started to fray…"

An hour later, as Len was finishing up the final bandage wrap on Jim's other leg, Jim was finishing his story. Worst of all, the blond moron had the nerve to be wracked with laughter as he finished his explanation of the series of unfortunate, terrible, dangerous, reckless events. "So...so...I finally killed the smoke detector," he chortled, "Naked, dripping with sweat and my own come, barely able to breathe, and-" He had to pause to laugh, gasping and putting both hands on his tummy. His muscles hurt from laughing.

Leonard McCoy hadn't so much as chuckled once. He was furious and getting madder by the second. It was a miracle Jim was alive to tell this foolish tale. He simmered and seethed as Jim caught his breath.

"-then i washed up, got dressed, and thought about flipping the mattress before you came home. But you spoiled my plans by coming home when you did." Jim took several deep breaths to calm himself down. It failed. The moment he felt himself relax, more laughter quaked out of him.

Bones looked down at his handsome, ridiculous husband. Jim was laughing so hard he was crying. He was in a bright blue pair of underwear with black piping and his legs were spread apart and draped one behind Len's shoulders, the other across his lap. Thick, snug bandages were wrapped around each of Jim's thighs and the numbing, soothing ministrations of Len's legendary hands had all but erased the pain. His shirt was loose and scrunched up so his belly showed above the black waistband of his briefs.

Len was simultaneously pissed off and turned on. To his amazement, he saw he wasn't the only one sporting a semi-erection.

"You are a burn victim, Jim," Bones explained bombastically, gesturing to the straining blue fabric, "Give it a rest." He sopped at his brow and craned his neck to look up the stairs, "We need to go shopping for a new bed. That room needs a coat of paint now. Gotta pick up a new smoke alarm and some bedding."

"I don't feel like it," Jim said, his laughter dying down a little. "Let's go tomorrow. 'Sides, all this fire has me in the mood for love." He rubbed the toes of his right foot across the front of Len's pants, grinning at what he could feel.

Len sputtered then shook his head. He turned a wild eye on Jim, arching up his eyebrow and ran a gentle hand over the bandages. He was sick with all the ways the scenario could have been worse. The burns on Jim's thighs were bad enough. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what had possessed Jim to believe he could do electrical repairs. His husband was a capable, confident man. He was shockingly intelligent when he applied himself. None of that made him any more capable of safely repairing a broken cord.

Jim swung his legs to the floor. He pulled himself into Len's lap and planted a kiss on his cheek. "We need a new Hitachi Magic Wand, too, add that to the shopping list."

"You know, I've half a mind to spank you, kid," Bones grumbled, his face a mask of pure aggravation, "But you'd _like_ it!"

Jim laughed so hard at that that even Bones had to give in and crack a grumpy smile.


End file.
